friends, lovers or nothing
by graceviolets
Summary: pucktana all the way. some of it romance, some of it bromance, some of it lost inbetween. one chapter/one story.
1. Chapter 1

"I need to tell you something" she says, her voice strong and confident.

"Okay" he mutters.

He's watching some stupid TV-show and eating all her chocolate.

"Look" she begins.

He's not listening. She can tell. She closes her eyes and mumbles the words silently. _Puck, I think I'm gay. _

"Can we do this after?" he asks. "They're going to trash a car after this."

_I'm not sure, but I think I'm in love with a girl. _

"It'll only take a second" she lies.

"Okay then" he sighs.

He turns to face her. He's impatient. She can't tell him like this. She doesn't want the first person she tells to be more interested of "Trash my Car" or whatever he's watching.

"Whatever" she snaps. "You don't care."

He rolls his eyes and goes back the TV. She watches his back. _Puck, I think I'm a lesbian. Everything is going to change._

"I'm going home" she announces.

He waves as she leaves.

…

It's stupid, really. But she wants him to be the first one she tells. Not because she thinks he will take it well or get it or whatever. She just wants him to know because depending on his reaction, she'll know how to react herself. Because she doesn't know how to feel. Should she laugh about it or cry about it? Should she go to some gay bar and _try it out_. She doesn't know.

…

She googles it. She knows it's lame and weird but she has no other way. **HOW DO I KNOW IF I'M GAY? **she types into the search engine. She gets 200 000 hits. The first ones are from forums. Girls and boys asking the same thing she is. And people answer, mostly unkindly. They paste weird pictures from a gay porno and writes **IF THIS MAKES YOU HORNY, YOU'RE A FAG! **Santana leaves the forums.

Next, she clicks the website of some church. The font is red and huge and tells her that gays are freaks and should be sterilized. Underneath is some bible passage quoted. She doesn't read it.

Instead she finds some kind of youth clinics website. Instead of mean teenagers replying with pornographic pictures, some kind of doctor or nurse answers questions. Santana types the words GAY into the search tool. 204 threads appear. She clicks the first one.

**Once, I felt a tingle _downstairs _when I saw two girls make out in a porno. Am I gay?**

Santana sighs and turns her computer off.

…

It would be easier if she had fallen in love with some random chick she met at some random place. But no, she has to fall in love with Brittany. Her best friend (at least of the female gender) and occasional fuck buddy. It's hard to figuring things out when the object of your lust is stroking the inside of your thighs.

"What about thinking about?" Brittany whispers.

Santana doesn't answer. She doesn't want to think right now. Just enjoy and smile and worry later.

"You're quiet" Brittany goes on.

"Yeah, sorry."

"Wanna sleep over?"

Santana watches her friend. Her eyes are big and blue, her hair tousled and tangled. There's a faint trickle of sweat going down her back.

"Nah."

"Why not?"

"Not feeling like it."

Brittany pouts. Santana wishes she was Brittany. She doesn't wonder of these things, she just _acts. _And no one will ever call Brittany gay. She has fucked too many boys.

"I'll make you some hot chocolate if you stay" Brittany offers.

Santana sighs.

"Okay."

Brittany kisses her and Santana pulls her down onto her again. The hot chocolate is forgotten.

…

Her bag is stolen from her locker. Santana wants to kill someone. She isn't the first one who has gotten their locker broken into, but she is the angriest.

"I had my computer and wallet in there" she whines to the principal.

"We'll catch the thief" he assures her.

She can see his brow furrow. Probably, Puck was there head suspect, but everyone knows that he would never break into Santana's locker. Apparently, they're back at square one.

"You will hear from my father about this" she hisses.

She storms out of her office. She can't even drive home, her car keys were in her bag.

"_Fuck_" she mutters.

"Wanna ride?" Puck asks.

She rolls her eyes. She still pissed at him and he doesn't get why she's mad.

"No."

"Come on, San. You can't walk home."

He's right. She gets into his ugly, smelly truck. They have made love in this truck several times. She had enjoyed all of them. So she can't be gay, right?

"Remember when we lost our virginity in here?" she asks.

He sniggers.

"I'll never forget."

"Worst sex of my life."

"Well, you got better."

She rolls her eyes and cranks up the volume of the stereo. She likes the smell of boy, the smell of Puck. She likes flirting with him. Why is she worrying so much? Puck is the ultimate evidence of her straightness.

…

"Dyke" someone hisses behind he in lunch line.

She turns, but no one's there. She collects herself, gets her salad and sits down next to Quinn.

"Has your computer been found yet?"

Santana shakes her head.

"No, not yet."

Brittany sits down too.

"Why are you so grumpy?" she asks Santana.

"I'm not grumpy."

Brittany bends over and tickles her. Santana pushes her off. People are watching. Someone is already suspecting something.

"Stop it" she hisses.

"Why?"

"Someone might think something's going on between us."

Brittany looks confused.

"But there is!"

"Shut. Up."

Karofsky and his gang pass by. Santana looks down onto her plate.

"What going on, Santana?" Quinn asks, raising one eyebrow.

"I don't want people getting the wrong idea about me, that's all."

"What wrong idea?"

"Forget it."

She pushes her tray away, hungry is the last thing she is.

…

"I got your bag" Puck calls her to say.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I bought it from some guy behind Walmart who had bought it from some dude."

"Thank god."

"The cash is gone, obviously. But everything else seems to there."

"Can I come by and pick it up?"

"Sure. Bring some whipped cream too. You have some repaying to do."

She hangs up on him.

…

He doesn't look her straight in the eyes when he opens the door.

"Thanks" she says, stepping inside.

"Anytime."

He fidgets on the spot before handing her the bag. It's dirty, but looks fine.

"I forgot the whipped cream" she smiles.

He smiles nervously back.

"Okay, what's up?"

"Nothing."

She goes past him and up to his room. He follows like puppy and closes the door behind him.

"You know, I'm your best friend" he says.

"Are you?"she yawns.

"Yeah."

He bites his lip.

"Puck, what the fuck is up?"

He leans against the wall.

"The guy who sold me the bag told me that the dude who had stolen it had searched your things."

"Euw. But okay."

"He went through your wallet and opened your car and stuff."

"Is there a point somewhere?"

"He also searched your internet history."

It takes almost ten seconds for Santana to understand. And when she does, she crosses her arms.

"So?"  
>"Why did you google stuff about being gay?"<p>

"It was for a project."

"What project?"

"Biology."

He frowns at her.

"Why do you even care?" she snaps.

"Because I had to act like I knew, because you're my best friend and you didn't tell that you're gay."

"Oh poor you."

She takes the bag and stomps out. He doesn't follow her.

…

He sneaks into her room in the middle of night. It's one of his tricks, how to open her window from the outside. Santana can't deny that it has been useful during the years, but tonight, she just wants him to leave.

"Do you really think you're a lesbian?" he asks.

"I don't know."

"You could have told me, you know."

"I tried, but you were more interested in some MTV show."

He looked guilty.

"Sorry."

"It's no big deal."

"Isn't it?"

"No. I mean, I can't be gay. I fucked you hundreds of times."

He smirks and places a hand on her breast.

"And that affects me" she sighs.

"Why do think you're gay then?"

Santana hesitates.

"I think I'm in love with a girl."  
>"Brittany?"<p>

She shrugs. Puck places his second hand on her other breast and bends down and kisses her. She kisses him back.

"You know, you can like both."

"Can I?"

"Yeah."

She kisses him again. He makes her tingle inside, there's no denying it. She takes his clothes off, smelling his skin, feeling his hands on her. It's like coming home, as easy as breathing. She pants into his chest and feels nothing but pleasure.

Afterwards, she curls up next to him.

"Maybe I should fall in love with a dude" he suggest.

She snorts.

"Why?"

"This is probably the best sex we've ever had."

She rolls her eyes and falls asleep with her head on his shoulder.


	2. a girl like that

He joins the musical because she makes him. Of course. He's not gay or anything. He doesn't even watch musicals. He just has a problem with denying her things, things that matter.

"I need an ethnic male to play against me" she tells him.

He rolls his eyes.

"I'm not Hispanic."

"Close enough."

He feigns slapping her face and she puts the script under his nose.

"You are my Bernardo, okay?"

He sighs and grunts and wines, but he says yes, because he can't really say no to her.

…

"There's _dancing_?"

She exhales air loudly, just like his mother does when she's exasperated with him.

"It's a musical, moron."

"So?"

"Never mind. We'll learn the dance on rehearsal."

"I can't even keep up in Glee" he pouts.

She rolls her eyes, but ruffles his hair in an affectionate way.

"It's not hard, okay? You'll be great. I'll help you."

He smiles and she smiles back. And it would be so easy to lean in and kiss her. But they don't do that anymore. Because she's a lesbian now and he kind of likes his daughter's new mom.

"So, what's the play about again?" he asks, tilting his head.

"_Musical_, you idiot."

"You're sounding like Rachel Berry."

She does an ugly grimace.

"Maybe I should I have found myself another Bernardo."

He reaches over and tickles her, below her collarbone. He thinks he's the only person knows about that spot. Because he knows her so well.

"I play your boyfriend, right?"

"Yeah" she smiles. "And you die."

…

He's not an actor. He's not a dancer. And he doesn't really have the voice for those preppy songs. He's really out of his element, but she isn't. She loves all of this, he can tell. She makes him watch the movie version of "West Side Story" and when he falls asleep in the middle of it, she gets pissed. She keeps stroking that red dress she's going to wear with an affection she never showed him.

"You turning into Rachel" he teases her.

She ignores him, takes off her clothes and steps into the dress. He watches her. She's still the hottest girl he has ever seen. That didn't go away with her turning gay. He still wants to do her, even if she suddenly only likes girls.

"How do I look?" she asks.

"Great."

"I love this dress."

"Take it off, I thought we were going to that party."

She pouts.

"Fine. Zip me down then."

He does. Her back is smooth and tan and he lets his fingers stroke her skin. She doesn't react, maybe she doesn't notice male interaction anymore. She gets out of the dress and pulls on a some more normal clothes.

"Let's go then" she says.

"Yeah."

…

He knows that it's acting. He's not stupid. But when she kisses him and dances close to him and winks at him, he almost believes it. It's not that big of a stretch. They did actually date once, when she was straight. They have slept together more times than he can remember.

"Puck, it's your line" Artie calls out.

He pulls himself together. Kurt is glaring at him. Rachel looks even more pissed.

"Look, if you're not serious about this…" she begins.

But Santana cuts her off.

"Just because he didn't watch the 'Wicked' bootleg as a child, doesn't me he can't be serious about this. He just needs some adjustment."

Rachel rolls her eyes. Santana grins at him, he smirks back. Yes, there's something there. This can't just be acting. There's something more.

…

The play, no, musical, is a big hit. He is crappy, he's acting is crappy and his dancing is even crappier, but they others are good. Rachel gets flowers thrown up on stage (from her dads) and Mike's mom cries. But Santana is the real star. She gets applauds so loud and so long that Rachel turns blue with envy.

"You were perfect" he whispers in her ear.

She doesn't hear. The noise is too loud.

"What?" she screams.

"You wanna try again?" he asks. "Me and you?"

She inclines her ear to him.

"I can't hear you!"

"I'll tell you after."

She nods and bows and curtsies and he wonders how he could ever have let her go.

…

He finally gets her alone. She's re-doing her make-up, looking flushed and giddy. He hasn't seen her this happy since forever.

"Berry wants to kill you" he says.

She smirks.

"She can try."

"Wanna do something tonight?" he asks, biting his lip.

She doesn't look at him, she looks at herself in the mirror.

"Can't, busy."

"Oh."

"I'm free tomorrow, wanna hang out then?"

"Yeah."

"I promise, no more fake kisses or death scenes."

"Right. Great."

She finally turns to him and smiles.

"God, I feel good."

She hugs him awkwardly. He holds her a fraction of second too long.

"You were great too" she tells him.

"Nah."

"Maybe not. But thanks for doing this."

"Anytime, you know that."

She nods and dances out of the room.

…

He goes by her house later. He just wants to know what she's doing. Her window is open, he can hear music. He creeps closer, feeling like Russian spy or a disgusting pedophile. And then he sees them. Santana stroking Brittany's cheek, leaning in to kiss her. Brittany giggles and kisses her back. The music is soft and romantic. They whispers things in each other's ear that he doesn't hear. And then, Brittany leans in and tickles Santana beneath the collar bone. The place only he knew about. His spot. And he leaves because he can't bare it.

…

"You feel nothing for me?" he asks.

She looks bewildered.

"What?"

"Nothing?"

"What are you going on about?"

"You just wanted me to play your boyfriend because of the play?"  
>"<em>Musical.<em> Puck, what is going on?"

"I love you."

"No, you don't. Shut up."

"I do, though."

"Puck…"

She looks panicky.

"Last night, I wanted to be with you, because I was happy and I wanted to be with you" he begins. "But you, you wanted to be with her."

"Come on…"

"You feel nothing for me?"

She steps closer and cradles his face.

"I had to try it, you know. I had to have a safe place to try if I still felt something when I kissed you."

"And?" he asks.

"I will always feel something for you."

"But it's not the same as it is with her?"

"No."

"Do you think that will change?"

Santana swallows.

"Honestly, I hope it doesn't."

…


End file.
